


The Reluctant Patient

by Small_Hobbit



Series: Sussex Retirement [5]
Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-25 14:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4964059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watson is ill</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Falling Ill

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ's Older Not Dead "In Sickness and In Health" challenge, for three prompts.
> 
> Prompt #1 'Flashback'
> 
> Spoilers for ACD story "The Man with the Twisted Lip"

I could prove, if such proof were required, that Holmes, despite retirement, retained a keen brain and an ability to pierce together apparently disparate facts and produce a coherent whole. On this occasion I had suddenly announced to him, “You will need to take a sponge, Holmes.”

He had looked at me, from within a haze of tobacco smoke and nodded. “An excellent suggestion, Watson,” he said. “Or it would have been twenty years ago.”

“What?” I struggled to sit up in bed and groaned. “How much did I drink last night? My head hurts like the blazes.”

“Lie back, there’s a good chap. I fear the fever you suspected last night has taken hold.”

I muttered but did as instructed. In truth, I didn’t think I had sufficient strength to do otherwise.

“It seemed so real,” I said. “I could see it all so clearly. But how did you know I was thinking of a case?”

Holmes smiled in the same way he had always done whenever he revealed his thought processes to me. His face may have aged, but there are certain traits which he will always have and this one, a combination of amusement and affection, I will never tire of seeing.

“Firstly,” he began, “you have spent a restless night. As you began to wake your feverish dreams put you in mind of those caused by opium and thus your visit to the opium den to find Mr Isa Whitney. In addition you would have smelt the tobacco which took you forward the same night, to sharing the room at Mrs St Clair’s house. Your knowledge of how we revealed the beggar Hugh Boone to be Neville St Clair was what led to your comment.”

“As ever, Holmes, you impress me. But what time is it? I fear the morning must be well on, given you are dressed and have smoked quite a considerable amount of tobacco.”

“It is just after half past ten and I fear we must move you back to your own bed.”

I groaned. Holmes was right. Our housekeeper, Mrs Maiden, would arrive at eleven and it was inconceivable she find me in Holmes’ bed.

For the sake of propriety we maintained separate rooms, although generally we would sleep together in Holmes’ bed. There were occasions when I preferred my own bed, normally when I wished to sleep until after eight and Holmes had planned an early start. This way I could avoid being woken at half past six to be told his plans for his bees.

I pushed myself up on the bed and Holmes put an arm around me and hauled me to my feet. I was very weak and forced to lean heavily on him as we traversed the passageway to my room. I stumbled occasionally, but Holmes prevented me from falling on the way. I sank down gratefully onto my own bed. The sheets felt cool and welcoming and I realised I must have been sweating during the night, for Holmes’ sheets had been hot and slightly damp.

“Your sheets,” I said.

“Do not worry, dear boy. I will change them now and tell Mrs Maiden they were yours. That will also explain why your bed looks fresher than it would had you spent the night in it.”

“Thank you.”

Holmes departed and returned shortly after with a tumbler of water. “Is there anything more I can get you at the moment?” he asked.

“No. I think I might doze for a little. Hopefully I will feel stronger later.”

Holmes bent down and kissed me gently on the brow. “Pleasant dreams,” he said.

 


	2. Care of the Patient

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #2 'Addiction'

Despite my expressed hopes I did not feel any better when I woke. Nevertheless I decided to sit up. I reached out for the glass of water, but as I did so my head spun alarmingly and I sank back down, dropping the glass as I did so.

The glass fell with a crash and moments later I heard hurried footsteps on the stairs. Mrs Maiden entered my room, paused and said “Stay where you are, Dr Watson. I am going to fetch Mr Holmes.”

I had no intention of doing anything else.

Shortly afterwards, Holmes came in, followed by Mrs Maiden with a dustpan and brush. While she swept up the broken glass Holmes told me he would be sending for the doctor.

“It’s not necessary,” I protested. “I shall be better soon. I _am_ a doctor myself.”

I heard a muttered “They always make the worst patients” from the far side of the nightstand.

I would have pointed out that if she thought me a bad patient, she would find Holmes far worse, but I didn’t have the strength.

Mrs Maiden stood up and said to Holmes, “Young Alice will be working at the Red House. She has a bicycle. Shall I ask if she can go for the doctor?”

“Yes please, Mrs Maiden.”

Once our housekeeper had left I tried to remonstrate with Holmes, but he merely patted me on the arm and said it was for the best.

I am not sure how long it was before Dr Hogarth arrived; for once again I had fallen into an uneasy sleep. I stirred as he entered the room and this time was able to slowly sit up. Hogarth placed an additional pillow behind my back to enable me to remain sitting whilst he examined me.

“There’s a lot of it about at the moment,” he said. “You should be able to get up in two or three days and in the meantime I shall prescribe some laudanum for you.”

“No,” I said weakly. “No laudanum.”

“Why ever not? It will help to ease your suffering and you will find you sleep better.”

I was aware of the benefits of opiates, but also of the disadvantages of taking them. No doubt I would find taking the laudanum would help me sleep, but I had no intention of going in that direction. I could see all too clearly what began as a medical expedient would soon become a routine necessity. There were times when my dreams disturbed me and I slept badly. How easy it would be, if there was laudanum present, to take some to dull the dreams. And from there the idea of taking something in case I dreamed could so easily take hold. I had seen it happen to enough people of my acquaintance not to wish to be added to their number.

I knew there was no point in trying to argue this with Hogarth; my opinion was not one shared by many in the medical profession. Nonetheless, as far as I was concerned, I intended to refuse.

Hogarth went back downstairs and I could hear him say to Holmes, “I have written a prescription for laudanum. Dr Watson says he does not wish to take it, but I am sure he will change his mind once you have purchased some.”

I heard the front door slam and I prepared to argue my case with Holmes. At least Holmes would listen to my reasoning, even if he chose to disagree with it.

But then I heard Mrs Maiden say, “Mr Holmes, may I suggest if the doctor does not wish to take laudanum, we encourage him to inhale some eucalyptus oil. This would aid his breathing, which should mean he can sleep better too.”

“That is a capital idea, Mrs Maiden. Could you arrange to purchase some and send it up to me? I am sure I can manage the administration by myself. There is no need for you to return with it.”

“Very good, Mr Holmes. As you wish.”

Shortly afterwards Holmes came upstairs. I smiled at him as he entered my room.

“I see you heard my conversation with Mrs Maiden,” he said.

I nodded. “Are you sure you don’t mind helping me?”

Holmes smiled. “I may not have made any formal vows in this respect, but I am here for you in both sickness and in health.”


	3. On the Mend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #3 'Repercussions'

I stayed in bed the next day, but the day after that I insisted I could come downstairs for a while. We waited until Mrs Maiden had left before Holmes assisted me down the stairs and into my armchair.

It was not that I objected to Mrs Maiden seeing me. She had brought me my meals the previous day and succeeded better than I suspect Holmes would have done in getting me to eat them. Neither of us would wish to fault the care and attention she had provided. However, we were both aware, if she were to observe Holmes assisting me physically, she might conclude our familiarity with each other was greater than might be expected from mere friends.

The following day I was able to come down in the morning, and even managed to potter in the garden for ten minutes in the afternoon, before the dank weather drove me back indoors. Accordingly, Mrs Maiden promised to call in on Seth on her way home and tell him I was well enough to receive visitors the next afternoon.

It was with some surprise, therefore, when Seth arrived at ten in o’clock in the morning. Holmes ushered him in.

Seth stood, slightly embarrassed, until Holmes asked him to have a seat, when he began, “I’m glad I’ve caught the two of you together. Mrs Maiden called in last night, and she asked me if I could ask you, only it’s rather awkward.”

He looked from one to the other of us and cleared his throat. “I am aware this sort of thing happens ...” He looked down at his feet.

I glanced across at Holmes and braced myself for the inevitable. Had I said something whilst in a feverish sleep which gave us away?

“But Mrs Maiden wasn’t so sure,” he continued, “You two not being the types you read about in the papers.”

If our true relationship came out we would be forced to move and I had grown to love our cottage and the village.

“And it really doesn’t bother me,” Seth continued in a rush, “Nor her. It’s just that if you do normally share a bed shouldn’t that mean there aren’t as many sheets to wash?”

I sighed in relief and Holmes gave a bark of laughter.

Seth stood. “I’ll leave you now,” he said, clearly relieved to have said his piece.

“Please stay,” Holmes said. “You’ve got time for a cup of tea. And then on your way home you should meet Mrs Maiden as she comes up the hill and can assure her we will reduce the laundry accordingly.”

“You won’t say anything directly to her?” Seth asked doubtfully.

“Good heavens, no! We shall behave exactly as we always have,” Holmes answered.

After Seth had left, Holmes said, “I shall go out to my shed for a while. I fear I may not be able to maintain a straight face in the presence of our esteemed housekeeper.”

I glared at him. “And you think I will be able to do so?”

“So long as no mention of laundry is made, I believe you will.”


End file.
